The Blooming Lotus
by MJTR
Summary: Before they were four of the greatest anarchist criminals in history, Zaheer, Ghazan, Ming Hua and P'Li were victims of viscous circumstance. These are the stories and the world that caused these four Red Lotus to take root.
1. Chapter I: Loss and Gain

[[Author's intro: This is a companion piece to my other fic, _Assault on the South_. The two will see new chapters released as they are completed. They were originally part of the same story but I found they work better separately. Bits of each story will make their way into the other, so for the full experience, I'd advise reading both. This chapter is present in both as I feel it is necessary to the narration of the main story. The rest of the stories are significant, but would hurt the pace of _Assault_ if included with it like I originally planned.]]

Chapter I:

Loss and Again

My parents were a wealthy pair towards the northmost side of the Earth Kingdom, in the small community of Rashon, wholly populated by socialites who shipped its rich resources, minerals and gemstones to Ba Sing Se. Nothing much ever went on there, with every building formed and fortified like an impenetrable fortress daring any vagabonds to disrupt its idyllic atmosphere, a large, steel gate surrounding the entire town. My childhood was filled with toys and candies and the many sweet things available to the Earth Kingdom's elite. And raised in that kind of environment, I was sure everyone else lived much the same way.

At least until the days I began to venture a ways outside the community. I remember the first day I saw the worn, weak earthbender, his body covered in mud, blood and sweat, his feet covered in blisters, walking away from the gem-filled mountains to the north of our village. And saw him as he collapsed.

"Mister? Mister are you okay?" I asked, offering him a hand.

"I'm… I'm-" he let out a painful wheeze. "I'm fine kid… Long day in the mines. That's all."

"Why were you in the mines all day?" I asked.

"Herbologists are expensive, pal. And my kids need their medicine."

"You're not even wearing any shoes!" I protested.

"Yeah, well maybe if I work a little harder I can save up for some new ones."

He was the first man I ever saw walking away from those mines, but certainly not the last. When I asked my parents about it days later, they told me he probably worked for someone in our village. That even if things seemed down for him now, he could surely work his way up someday, he just had to handle his money carefully, like my family had. The irony of a broken man digging out diamonds and gemstones still strikes me even to this day.

My parents and the rest of the elite owned the mines and paid their workers only a fraction of the fortunes they brought out with them each day. Anyone found attempting to smuggle those riches was eventually caught and harshly punished. And with the constant danger and weakness the workers always found themselves in, their meager payments only barely kept them alive. The difference between the elite of my community and slavedrivers was a loose technicality.

I don't know how I could have possibly been surprised when I awoke when our house was set aflame in the middle of the night.

If I had to guess what exactly transpired beforehand, it would be that one of the foreman from the mines, the only ones with a key to get past the gate, had finally decided he had seen enough for the hypocrisy and abuse my parents and the other mine-owners were partaking in. I don't think any of them were firebenders themselves, and the fire was probably started by some of the explosives they used to make their way through the mines. Regardless, I remember being pulled from my bed by my mother, screaming about the grave danger we were in. She carried me to the outside as the chaos ensued, the smoke felling my nose and lungs and threatening to pull me into darkness.

I saw the oppressed workers screaming and bending with all their might. Houses were torn apart, fires were set, it was a destructive and merciless scene. I could see the dirty men, women and children rushing to the storehouses and running off gleefully with armfuls of gold and diamonds, running away to build better lives for themselves after the horrors my family had rot upon them. With another inhale of smoke, I was rendered unconscious.

When I awoke the next morning I was somewhere else. Somewhere stone, cold and ancient, by the looks of it. I was lying on a mat on the ground, and after my eyes adjusted to the brilliant glare of the sun, I saw about half of the adults and children of the town standing in a small crowd along with another figure. Someone who, until that moment, I had only heard the faintest words about. He was a tall, dignified looking man with a brown beard and a shaven head, a blue tattoo of an arrow running down the center.

In spite of the always cheerful and charming stories I had been told, Avatar Aang at this time bore a scowl and a voice that shook with contempt.

"How many in your village were killed in that raid?" He demanded. "How many of your friends and family suffered and died because you were too consumed in your own greed to allow your workers the bare necessities of life?"

"You're blaming us?! We were the ones attacked!"

"And from what you all have told me, you have been preying upon the weakness of your servants for far too long," The Avatar replied. "What they did was wrong, they have now done terrible things. But you paved this path yourselves… And maybe you can begin your road to redemption here." He motioned to the place that surrounded us, saying, "I brought you all, atop my bison, to the Northern Air Temple. The air acolytes will help treat all of you for your wounds, and you may remain here to recover. But you should know your entire village was leveled by that assault. If you wish to use this temple for shelter, you will abide by our ways. Otherwise, try and make something better of your lives when you leave."

…

I arrived in that temple when I was eight years old, and remained there for my next seven. I would often hear the people of my village complain about everything involved in our stay. The way the acolytes forbid the eating of meat, the discomfort in the sleeping quarters and the general rejection of creature comforts. Such was this disdain that I hid that part of me secretly liked the simplistic lifestyle and philosophies of the acolytes. I enjoyed attending the classes and lectures the gurus taught, and worked off a lot of the weight I had carried from all those sweets practicing yoga and martial arts.

More than anything else, the acolytes taught me what a simple place the world can be, if you permit it to be. When my mother once asked me how I could possibly be happy with everything that had been ripped from our hands, I told her it was because I had accepted what had happened in the past. That pain and suffering exist, but by lingering, we only prolong it.

Needless to say, my parents, and much of the rest of my destroyed village, did not share the philosophies of the acolytes. There was only so much of that simplicity they could stand.

Four years into our time there, I was again awoken in the middle of the night, this time by my mother.

"Zaheer…? Zaheer wake up. Wake up! We're leaving this place."

"Wha… What?"

"Your father and I have packed. We're finally leaving this temple. We're going to rebuild our lives."

"But… But we were already rebuilding our lives. The monks took us in."

"And then took away our choice in the matter," my father retorted. "They'd like us to be trapped here forever, Zaheer. But we're not like them. We have lives to live outside these walls. And we finally have the means to do it. Come on son, we're leaving."

It was then, after scratching my eyes, that I saw their carrying bags and my heart sank. They were full of the small, meditating idols that decorated the temple and a number of worn old scrolls. Antiques and precious valuables of the airbenders.

"You're… You're stealing from them?" I asked weakly, tears forming in my eyes.

"There's enough here to rebuild what we lost," my father said. "We can go back to the outside, back to living the good life!"

I remained in that devastated state for a few seconds as my mother grabbed me by my arm and pulled me out of bed, but with a yank I forced myself free. Tears were streaming down my cheeks and I couldn't control my voice. I began to scream, painful and shrill.

"You're betraying them! The people who saved you- Who took you in- T _his_ is how you repay them?!"

"Quiet Zaheer!" My mother hissed. "You'll wake the monks-"

"I hope I do!" I yelled back. "You… You're monsters! Greedy monsters who only care about being rich again! No matter what these people have done from you, you're going to-"

My father stepped forward and struck me across the face, issuing a, "Quiet!" Of his own, grabbing me by my shirt and dragging me towards the outside.

"Help! Help!" I screamed. "Someone, anyone, help!"

By the time we stepped out into the cold of the autumn air my father had thrown me to the ground, one eye twitching in anger. I knew how to counter and escape from them, I could have fought back. But they were my parents. Once my caring, spoiling parents. I couldn't possibly fight them. But they could fight me if it meant leaving the temple and regaining their fortune.

But at last my cries of pain were met with some kind of response. At least half a dozen monks, probably meditating before sunrise, appeared in the temple's courtyard, looks of absolute disgust and anger upon their faces.

"This is how you repay us?" One asked. "After we gave you shelter?"

"You forced us into a prison!" My father barked back. "Look at you, defending a culture that isn't even your own! Well we have had enough."

"You have always been free to leave whenever you wished," another monk said. "But set down that bag and those artifacts. And let the boy go."

"You don't tell us what to do with our son!" My mother objected. At this moment, I pushed to my feet and ran, sobbing in pain and anguish, to one of the monks, clinging to his robes before furiously looking back at my parents.

"I'm not your son!" I shouted. "Not anymore! All you've _ever_ done was try and control people! Well you're done trying to control me!"

In spite of their former resolve, this cry seemed to weaken my mother. "No… Zaheer listen to me. We've never tried to-"

"All you care about is power!"

"No," my father said, trying to maintain his composure. "Zaheer, all we ever cared about was you-"

"Then you should just have made lives for yourselves here. And if you really mean it, you'll leave and never come back!"

Both of my parents remained frozen in place as they stared at the monks and back at me. Slowly, my father set down the bag of stolen idols and raised his hands. "Zaheer… Look at me… Zaheer… I'm giving them back… Please… Don't act like this."

"I don't care if you give them back," I said with some struggle. "You've done enough. I'm not going with you."

Silence, save for my sobs, overtook the courtyard for a few seconds before my mother pleaded, "Please… We've made a grave mistake. Take everything back, we'll stay. We won't complain anymore… Just don't separate us from our son-"

"I AM NOT YOUR SON!"

"You have committed a grave act on this night." The monk who held me said. "With or without your son, you would be banished from our temple for this until you can prove you have overcome the actions that have made you this way."

"Then isn't leaving us without shelter penance enough?" My father demanded. "How could you separate us from our son as well?!"

"We had no intention of separating you from your son. Those were Zaheer's words. Not ours."

"… Son…"

"… Zaheer…"

"… Leave. And don't ever come back."

Those were my last words to them and the last look I have them. I could hear their screams of struggle and resistance thereafter as the monk led me away, a caring hand on my shoulder.

"I am so sorry, Zaheer."

"… Pain exists. It is only by lingering that we turn it into suffering." I said weakly. It took everything in my being to not sob harder. No matter what I had said or how I had behaved, something had still just disappeared from my life. Forever.

"… I know it cannot do much to help you now. But there is an old airbending saying. 'In order to maintain balance, something must be lost by every gain. But something too is gained in every loss'."

With a brief wheeze and choke I said, "Than I hope I gain a lot. Otherwise I'll never keep balance."

The old monk showed me the saddest smile I have ever seen in my life. "You will, Zaheer. Guru Laghima said so."

…

By this point P'Li had fallen asleep at my side. There was more that had led me to this point, more gains, more losses and a far longer search for balance. But that was enough for one night. After all, there was much work to be done in the morning.


	2. Chapter II: Reeducation

Chapter II:

Reeducation

The first time I told my life's story to Ming was a night after the team destroyed the Great Dam of Sheung. That was a very satisfying victory too- the city's higher ups had seized all the water to produce electricity, leaving many families down the river thirsty and easy to exploit. The steam coming off of that thing as my lava ripped it apart was absolutely euphoric. Ming and a few new recruits out of the north channeled the water and brought the river back from desolation. I was riding that high well into the night after we escaped, claiming no credit, just a job well done. And for the first time since we'd started completing missions together, Ming seemed satisfied. We spent dinner with Zaheer that night raising glasses and toasting our accomplishments well into intoxication. Until then most of Ming's work along Zaheer and I had been some small time assassinations, and some of those were botched. We weren't a real force to be reckoned with yet, but that night I really saw her smile at the work we had done.

I never imagined sex with an armless woman would be a loud and furious. I don't know what I ever _would_ imagine it to be like, but that night surely destroyed any expectations I could have ever had. I like an assertive woman, but Ming was just insane. When it was all over I had to plead with her not to bend the sweat off my forehead, I'd overheat if she did. I bend lava and that woman had me ready to burn up.

I think I started talking because I was reminded of what it was like to feel vulnerable. Or maybe it had to do with asking her for the hundredth time and only getting a slightly softer response than I'm used to. I still don't know how Ming ended up with the Red Lotus, but she's heard my story a hundred times. She might just think I'm some full of himself prick who just likes to brag about how much shit I escaped from. She might be right. But even if that's true, it's as much about my own struggle for accepting what kind of world I was born into than anything else.

…

Judging by the pieces I've read that were long since banned by Chancellor Geng Xui, the town of Chin has always been run by idiots. But the strangest thing about idiots is how wildly different they can be from one another. The generation before mine saw them burning the statues of past Avatars for perceived transgressions and eventually eating raw, unfried pastry dough in celebration of Avatar Aang within a few years. The politics were corrupted, court system was a mess and it was wildly incompetent. Chin was host to stupid people doing stupid things. But what is far more terrifying than that is when smart people begin doing stupid things.

I've been told that when the Hundred Year War ended, the Earth Kingdom's monarchy set up individuals, recognized as chancellors, to all of its smaller cities, to ensure order was maintained. The second chancellor of Chin was Geng Xui, a sick man with some twisted ideas.

By then, thirty years after the war, the chancellor became acutely aware of the growing number of Fire Nation refugees and immigrants making their way to the Earth Kingdom. The Republic was still in its infancy and, being a city on the coast, Chin became the destination for many firebenders and their families.

Some of the xenophobia I can get, particularly after the struggle that took place. But acceptance and forgiveness are two radically different things. The Fire Nation could not dare be allowed to spread its ideas and culture to the glorious Earth Kingdom, Geng Xui believed, but he could not keep them from coming, fearing repercussions and further conflict from Firelord Zuko.

Five years into his position, Geng Xui made a shocking discovery. His maternal grandmother, an ancestor by only two generations, was of Fire Nation origin. And yet Geng Xui didn't look the part at all. He appeared to be a pure earthbender, of pure and proud Earth Kingdom heritage.

In a better man this would inspire empathy. In that idiot it inspired a grand plan.

Through some underhanded tactics and quiet manipulation, Geng Xui passed a series of laws he called the "Earth Kingdom Cultural Preservation Acts". There were a number of pieces of business that barely needed mentioning at all, but most importantly were the laws of decency and welfare. Put simply, he managed to illegalize anything he decreed "lewd behavior", including premarital sex, and that citizens would require a government issued license to marry. The laws seemed mostly innocuous at first, Chin was a largely conservative society anyway. If anything the laws seemed to appear progressive in practice. My father, a firebender, was permitted to marry my mother, an earthbender, without any notable difficulty. My younger brother, Nasam, and I were born and raised in what I was sure was a normal, loving household.

Unfortunately, those laws and the true intentions of Geng Xui were made apparent years later.

When Nasam and I were six, letters began to circulate around the village. That the children who were born half-caste (we didn't know what it really meant. My parents even thought it affectionate.) were invited to come away and learn how to be proper Earth-kingdom citizens. It was a special schooling program, where we'd have the chance to learn more about our country's history and be prepared to find work in better environments in adulthood. Since his immigration my father had become honored by his adopted homeland, and was proud at the chance for his sons to become upstanding Earth Kingdom citizens. As we left I made a promise to both of my parents. I would take good care of my little brother.

"We're gonna finally be able to move somewhere really nice, like Ba Sing Se, aren't we Ghazan?"

"That's right kid. We're moving on up."

"We're gonna be men! We're gonna come back to Mom and Dad as awesome, cool looking men! You should grow a moustache Ghazan, it'd make you look like Dad."

I had a promise to keep.

It was a private, boarding school setting, meaning we'd only see our parents at the holidays. My mother was crying when she waved goodbye to us as we were shipped by boat to Whaletail Island. It was only once we reached that dreadful place Geng Xui's intentions became clear to me, even as a child.

"The first step on your path to becoming true citizens of her Majesty's great and glorious Earth Kingdom," one of my teachers had begun. "Is to sever whatever ties you believe you have elsewhere. As it has always been, but as you shall especially learn now, the Earth Queen is your loving, nurturing mother. The Earth Kingdom is your generous, caring father. You will not recognize any before them."

The girl just to my left, her eyes shining fire-nation gold, apparently decided she needed an example to be made of herself. She raised her hand and the teacher snappily demanded what question she could have so soon. "I have lived in the Earth Kingdom all my life," she said. "I love my country. But my grandmother came from the Fire Nation and taught me to be proud of my heritage there as well. I want to be respectful to both sides of my family."

She couldn't have known. None of us could have possibly known. We were just a bunch of kids who thought we were going to school. But we learned. And we learned very quickly.

Behind his desk the teacher kept a wand, like a thin cane. When the girl had finished her statement, he asked her to put out her hands, palms up. At first it seemed innocuous and she did so without resistance. But without warning he began to whip and beat at the poor girl's open hands, leaving her screaming, sobbing and possibly even bloody in the first few strokes. When she tried to pull them from his reach he calmly told her she could take them against her cheek instead, if she wouldn't cooperate. In those first few minutes of our first day in class, we all began to slowly realize the nightmare we were living in.

"You may hate me for this now," he and many of my other teachers over the years would say, "But this is the one path to a golden age across our country."

Kill the Fire Nation living inside us, and replace it with unquestioning love for the motherland.

"Ghazan the teachers are scaring me… I want to go home."

"I know you do pal… We'll get some paper and pens from the classrooms, okay? We're write home to Mom and Dad. Tell them what an awful place this is. They'll want us to come home."

I had a promise to keep.

That plan didn't work at all. All outgoing mail was handled directly by the headmaster, and if he didn't like what you were saying, he could just refuse to have it sent. There were all kinds of other rules implemented. We were not to act impudent towards our history teachers. We were not to question the ethics that the Dai Li raised. And let the spirits have mercy on anyone who dared firebend in their midst.

I think what I hated the most, besides the beatings I usually say (but didn't usually receive) was the tone of all my teachers. The way everyone involved in that place was so convinced they were paying us a service. That they would create a better world through breaking our will and destroying our connection back to our father's homeland.

When the holidays home with our families came, everyone was forced to attend a last speech by the headmaster to see us out of the semester. He was very encouraging, even hopeful of the direction we would be taking in the future. But towards the end, he issued a statement that I knew full and well was a threat.

"And of course, we know how proud you are all becoming of your country. By the time you all graduate you will be recognized as some of the finest young minds in the Earth Kingdom… But should any of your minds find a reason to speak against our fine institution, should you request your parents transfer you elsewhere, Chancellor Geng Xui has requested your leave must be processed through the kingdom itself. To graduate will bring your name great honor, but to leave will surely bring great shame and a darker future. To you, and your families."

Nasam and I didn't speak a word about our fears and dread when we saw Mom and Dad again. For the next five years we kept it all a secret as best we could. How all of our classmates could have possibly done the same is beyond me. Maybe we just got used to the abuse.

But as time went on, I learned Nasam had a secret all his own.

It was four years after we'd started attending the school, on a very cold night in our dormitory. Nasam slept in the bed across from me along with four other boys who changed with the years. The threat of separating my brother and I was the way they managed to keep us both so firmly in line. Something had awoken me that night, perhaps the rap of cold wind against the window coverings. Whatever it was, I opened my eyes at just the right time to catch a spark of orange from the bed across from me.

"Nasam!" I shouted in the loudest whisper I could manage. Instantly he flinched, another boy or two rolling under his blankets as I ran over to him. "What was that? Nasam- Nasam what are you doing?!"

I could just make out his face in the darkness, terrified as I continued to shake him. "I'm sorry Ghazan," he said with some struggle. "I- I was just so cold-"

"You can firebend?!" I demanded. "How long have you been able to firebend?"

"I don't know… A few years ago? No one ever taught me how-"

"Damn right they didn't teach you how. Don't do it again, Nasam. They'll kill you for it!"

"I won't," he sobbed. "I promise I won't."

I felt a pillow hit my head as one of our roommates shouted, "Hey, shut up over there!" I said nothing to him but held my glare on my little brother. His look of terror assured me he would never dare firebend on that island again.

I had a promise to keep.

It was a promise he couldn't keep.

To Nasam's credit, he accepted his role as a nonbender for two years without a single mistake. After that first sight I was sure it was only a matter of time, but he actually managed far longer than I would have thought. The day came like almost any other, I forcing myself through my first three hours of propaganda history class before the headmaster personally came to my classroom, requesting my presence.

He was silent as he led me to his office, but my heart sank from my first look into the door. Nasam was seated in the room's center, his hands trapped in two blocks of stone.

"Do you know what your brother did to find himself in this situation?" The headmaster asked. Of course I knew. I'd seen plenty of other boys with their hands trapped in those rock restraints before. When I didn't answer, the headmaster said, "Firebending. The art forbidden by this school. An act of total disrespect to his country-"

"To be perfectly honest headmaster," I said, my voice shaking. "I don't give a shit what he's done."

"What did you say to me you impudent child?!"

"I have a promise to keep."

And with that and a single thrust of my hand I freed Nasam from one of his bindings and fired the rock at our headmaster, who fell to the ground groaning in pain. With a stomp of my foot I shattered the other rock holding Nasam in place, grabbed his arm and made a break for the window.

"YOU LITTLE MONSTERS!"

We were over four floors up, I had to improvise. Fast as I could I called four pillars out of the ground, Nasam and I landing roughly on the first one but managing to make a proper break thereafter.

I don't know how long we ran for or where we ended up. All I know is that I only stopped because Nasam collapsed, dragging me to the ground with him.

The two of us spent the next two weeks on the run, hiding amongst foliage by day and escaping into the dark by night. We ate what we picked and rarely what we could catch, Nasam providing the fire. "Where are we going?" Nasam asked me.

"We're going home," I told him. "Whatever it takes. We're going home."

If I had the time or resources, I'd have formed a far better plan. The best escape route was to the north, but we were crossing from west to east. We could have escaped through the whale's blowhole. Instead we made it as for as his middle back before our detours at last led us to the ocean.

"So… What now?" Nasam asked.

"I told you, we're going home," I told him.

"We're going to _swim_ there?" He asked.

"I'm brainstorming," I sighed. Setting my eyes on the seemingly endless horizon I silently considered our situation. How were two exhausted, hungry half-caste boys going to cross the ocean. "… I got it."

I grabbed Nasam by the arm and led him back to the solid ground that bordered the beach. With a stomp of my foot I cut deep into the earth, forming a descending pit over ten feet deep. "Here's the plan kid, if we can't swim over it, we're just going to have to walk underneath it."

"Are you insane?!" Nasam demanded. "We can't walk under the ocean!"

"Fate's decided we have no other choice," I said sternly. "We've rebelled. If the school doesn't kill us they'll be content with cutting bits of our brains out until we're drooling like pig monkeys. At least this way if we die, we at least get to say we tried to get back to Mom and Dad."

There were all kinds of reasons that was a horrendously stupid idea. But we were just two benders desperate to get home to our parents. We were going to do what we had to do.

As seems to be my luck, the inevitable came, but took its time. Instantly we found ourselves trapped in darkness, but Nasam's firebending managed to mitigate that problem. "How can you even do that?" I asked. "How can you firebend like that if no one ever taught you?"

"I don't know Ghazan… It's just… Knowing yourself, you know? My firebending is where all my aggression, all my… Friction, I guess, goes. That's what lets me bend the way I do."

"Well, keep at it kid. It's our only way to see."

Food was tricky but not totally difficult to come by. When we grew hungry enough I would make a small, shallow depression in the tunnel sealing above us. Sand and salt water would instantly flood in before I swiftly bent the hole shut, but my attempts would carry with them fish and crabs from the bottom of the sea. Nasam and I had no way of knowing what was poisonous or what wasn't, so we just made our best guesses.

I don't know if it was something we ate or the long time we went without sunlight, digging deeper and deeper into the earth that began to make us sick.

"We're going to die down here, aren't we Ghazan?"

"Kid… Come on. Shut up," I said, trying to fight off whatever it was that had ruined us. "We're… We're going to make it home. We said we would… Damn it why is it so hot down here?!"

The weeks of travel and days of sunlight deprevation had taken their toll as I smashed my foot into the ground in fury. Couldn't my brother understand all I was doing I did for him? How _dare_ he question me in my lowest moment. Unfortunately for both of us, he wasn't the only one questioning my plan to get home. The universe seemed to want to join in the mocking.

The banging from my foot and the resultant earthbending had knocked something out of place. I have no idea in the least what. I'm not a geologist. I have no idea how it could have happened. But the tunnel was shaking. Both of us were staring at the ground as the earth seemed to move and push and churn. If anything, I guess I knocked something out of place. That's my best bet.

Within minutes of the shaking a monstrous plume of flames forced its way out of the ground a few feet from us. I grabbed ahold of Nasam and jumped away as the blast forced itself upwards, a terrible sizzling sound overtaking us as the magma his the ocean above, both of which now threatened to end us.

"Can you keep the fire from reaching us?" I yelled to Nasam, who nodded as best he could. I was forcing out all my forms as fast as I could, trying to call upon more earth to seal the newfound holes in our tunnel. But the burning rock refused to be overcome by either water or my bending as it continued to force its way through my stone walls and allow more water to make its way in. By the fire of his hands Nasam managed to quiet some of the bursts of flame, but it was clear we were outmatched.

"I knew it!" He yelled. "I knew we were going to die in this damn cave!"

"With that attitude we will!" I shouted, still fighting off the intruding volcano as it ate through my exhausted, shoddy handiwork. "We need to stay calm-"

"We're being chased! By fire!" Nasam screamed, turning to me, tears in his eyes as his hands fell to his side.

"What are you- Nasam no!" I shouted. "You need to keep it back!"

"I… I can't do it anymore," he said with some struggle, looking down. "You were right Ghazan… They were all right. I should have never tried to defy them. I should have been a good boy."

I grabbed my brother by the shoulders. "Look at me- LOOK AT ME!" I screamed. "Don't you dare do this to me! I said I was going to take you home! And I'm going to-"

"Goodbye Ghazan… Thanks for everything. I love you."

As he got his last words in, the ocean and lava shattered the tunnel. The salt water was filling my eyes before I could see what happened, but I could feel it as something tore my brother away.

 _No… No… NO!_

I had a promise to keep.

I don't know exactly how I knew what to do next. Somehow Nasam's words just echoed in my mind. Thoughts of feeling and friction filled me.

With raw willpower and a motion of my hands, I could sense the magma freeze in place. Our mighty attacker was, within moments, under my will. But no matter what I could do, the ocean would surely not be so easy to manipulate.

With a burst of adrenaline I forced the rapidly cooling lava underneath my body and pushed it skyward. In a burst of energy like I have never felt before the once molten rock blasted beneath my feet until it forced my head above the waves and I stood on a small island of the cooled stone. I managed one breath and one look up at the moon before I collapsed.

I don't know how long I was out for. For a moment, I must have thought it was all a bad dream. The magma I mean, I knew I had to still be in the tunnel judging by the stone I laid upon. But as my eyes adjusted to the sunlight the horrible truth began to sink in.

"Nasam… NASAM!"

I had made a promise. And I had broken it.

…

I spent the next six years as a wanderer, to defeated and ashamed to go back home. I drank and gambled and pushed myself nearly to my death. Until the day came I felt a hand on my shoulder after two bar fights and a particularly bad exchange with the bartender. I was sitting exiled in a corner.

"I can see it in your eyes, you know," he said. "You've been through a lot. Horrible, horrible things, by the looks of it."

"Yeah? What would you know?"

The man took his seat across from me. His hair was short and black, his eyes brown and his stare very intense. "Who did those terrible things to you?"

"My teachers. My headmaster. Take your pick," I retorted. "What do you care?"

"I've seen sort like yours before. Mixed ancestry, right? Half Earth Kingdom, half Fire Nation? Then I'm guessing they forced you into one of those reeducation camps they call schools."

"What of it?"

"What if I told you I have the resources to hunt down the people who hurt you? What if I told you I could give you a way to hurt them back?"

"… What's in it for you? I gotta join your secret underground society first?" I chuckled.

"Only if you want to," he said, raising an eyebrow as I double took. Was he being serious? "There are a lot of people we've been looking to… Dispose of. And we find a little personal manpower always makes a job run smoother."

"… What did you have in mind?"


	3. November Announcement

Hello my dear readers!

I wanted to take the opportunity to announce a big moment concerning my fan fiction writing coming up here very soon. At the moment, I have a bit of a backlog of smaller projects I started but never got around to finishing that have sort of been swallowed up by stuff like my sequel to _Angel of the Bat_ , my attempt at writing Xenoblade etc. I have felt bad about this for a while and understand that I may very well have caused interest to wane on these side projects, but I am determined to not let these pieces go unfinished.

So, knowing how many writers dedicate November to knocking out a novel, I think the least I can do is knock out a few of these pieces that were intended to be finished quickly in the first place. So look forward to new material and the conclusion of these pieces this November!


End file.
